CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

The next morning I hired an Apparatus to take me back to Hogwarts. After paying him to wait at the front gates of the school I went back to my quarters. It was still fairly early but the halls were already full of kids, all of whom had far too much energy for their own good. Even on a Saturday, with many of the students off visiting family, old Hogwarts was crowded. I overheard some kids comparing their card collections, Famous Wizard Cards versus Wizard Of The Month Cards, and had to fight the urge to confiscate both sets. I hold the manufacturers of those cards personally responsible for Wizarding Britain's shaky grasp of history. Putting the card-players behind me I kicked some Second Years outside for running in the halls and told them I didn't want to see them for at least an hour. I left it up to them as to whether that meant 'stay outside for an hour' or 'avoid the professor for an hour'.

In my quarters I found Shibley and one of the Grey Sisters hovering by Shibley's screened-off area. When I walked in the conversation paused, and the two of them watched me carefully. Shibley stood with her arms crossed and her shoulders hunched. The Grey Sister glared at me.

''You look upset, Shibley. What's wrong?'' I closed the door behind me and matched the nun's glare.

Shibley 'shuffled' her feet, an odd sight given that she was about fifteen centimetres above the floor. She unfolded her arms and clenched her hands in front of her. ''It's naethin', Master Geoffrey. Sister Margarit merely cam by fur a gab.''

''I'm here to see that Sister Shibley is well,'' said the dead nun. ''And to encourage her to return to the order.''

''Not only was Shibley a novice and free to leave at any time she wanted, her order died out over four hundred years ago. She remained with the Grey Sisters out of choice, and she left out of choice.''

''Her vocation is not one to set aside - ''

''You are in my quarters without my permission. And you've obviously upset Shibley. You can leave now, or I can track down that mad bitch Black and slip her a few Galleons to Curse you so hard your descendants will feel it.''

Sister Margaret opened her mouth to speak.

''Go,'' I said.

Still glaring at me, the nun floated past towards the door. ''Sister Shibley, you must - ''

''Shut yer gob-hole, Maggie.''

Sister Margaret huffed mightily and vanished through the door. I turned to face Shibley. She was still clenching her hands together, but she looked a bit more relaxed than she had earlier.

''A little easier to stick up for yourself when there's someone else around?''

''Aye. Aa'm sorry Master, Ah didne ask 'er in an' she wooldnae lae...''

''That's fine, it's not your fault.'' I went over to my wardrobe and started looking for a fresh shirt. ''How long was she here?''

Shibley sighed. ''Weel ower an hoor, Master Geoffrey.''

I tossed my fresh clothes on my bed. ''Billy Blin, may I have a washbasin, some soap, and a facecloth please?'' I turned back to Shibley. ''If anyone bothers you again when I'm not around speak to the Headmistress or Deputy Headmaster, or to Professor Bonamy.''

A loud snap announced the arrival of my requested washbasin on my table. I sat down and took off my old shirt.

''Professur Bonamy? Wa 'er?''

''You're a Hufflepuff, right? She's your House Mother.'' Much to the joy of nearly every male in that House, and probably a tenth of the female Hufflepuffs. The Music and Athletics professor looked like an anime girl come to life.

''Ah... Ah dornt hink ghosts ur in th' Hooses, sae much.''

I finished washing up and towelled off. ''You should be. I'll talk to Professor Bonamy about it. And what I said about talking to these people if anyone bothers you? That applies to me as well, if I get on your nerves.''

''Nae. Ack, nae. Ah woods ne'er gang behin' yer back 'at way.''

''It's not going behind my back,'' I said as I tucked in my shirt. I'd have a full wash and shave later in the day, before my date. ''It's having someone to talk to when I get annoying.''

Shibley just gave me a quick quarter-bow. I guessed she wasn't convinced, but I decided not to press the matter. ''Can you Apparate or be Apparated?''

''Nae, Master Geoffrey.''

I thought for a minute. ''Can you use the Floo Network?''

''Aye.''

''D'you want to go shopping in Diagon Alley?''

''Aye!'' Her eyes went wide for a second. Then her face fell. ''Aa'm nae allowed it withit an overseer. Nae since 'at wee matter wi' th' Earl ay Strathmair.''

As my father once told me, sometimes you're just better off not knowing. ''Well, you'll be with me. That counts as supervision.'' I asked Billy Blin for a bucket of Floo Powder, and told the chief House-Elf to have it deducted from my pay. A half-second after the bucket appeared by the fireplace it occurred to me to ask Shibley how much Floo Powder cost.

''Ah dunnae kin. Am Ah pure gonnae messages?'

Messages? Right, shopping. No one in Britain actually speaks English.

''Yes. Does the actual flue have to be open for the Floo Powder to work?'' I heard rustling and scratching noises from the fireplace, which I guessed were the House-Elves at work. ''Thank you, Billy Blin. I'll buy some fresh bread at Witch's Rest for you.''

Shibley laughed. ''Th' Brounies loch ye, but they hink yoo're huir uv a auld fashioned. Ah've nae bin tae th' Alleys in ages an' ages. Whaur ur we gonnae?''

''I need breakfast, so we're going to Witch's Rest first. And if I don't see the old guy Ollivander there, Gerry I think, we'll try the wand shop. Then I have a few places I need to go. If you get bored you can Floo back to Hogwarts.'' I hadn't been planning on asking Shibley to come with me, but she'd obviously had a bad start to the day. But my shopping itinerary would probably be pretty boring...

''Bored?'' Shibley laughed. ''I've not been to the Alleys since that Irisher McGonagall were a lass.''

''Let's leave the ancient ethnic prejudices out of this, shall we? The Cauldron probably isn't open yet. Try the Witch's Rest first, I can't remember if they have a fireplace or not.''

Shibley rushed over to the fireplace and stuck her hand in the bucket of Floo Powder. I expected her to lift a bit of powder out, but instead her entire form turned faintly green. She floated into the fireplace and said ''Witch's Rest!'' Her body transformed into a pillar of green flame that collapsed in on itself, shrinking into a sphere of emerald flame that disappeared up the chimney.

''I'm almost positive this isn't what they mean by 'raising the dead','' I muttered. I grabbed my jumper and left, hoping the Apparatus hadn't gotten bored and gone looking for another customer.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

He hadn't, and he knew Diagon Alley well enough to drop me right in front of the café I found Shibley hovering anxiously in a table towards the back of the café, telling a couple that she was holding the table for someone.

The man of the couple sneered at me as I sat down. ''Ghosts should keep out of the way of people.''

''Bigots should keep their mouths shut in polite company.''

The server stepped between us. A short woman in plain dark robes, she looked to be about half my age and I immediately felt guilty for putting her on the spot like that. ''Sorry,'' I told her, not looking up at the couple. ''I haven't had food or caffeine yet, but that's no excuse.''

The server nodded and led the couple away before they could say anything else.

''Sorry Master.''

''It's not your fault I lost my temper.'' I picked up the menu. With Shibley still standing in the middle of the table half the page was in her hip. ''Why don't you have a seat?''

She looked down. ''Och, reit. Sometimes Ah forgit myself.''

''So what are you having?'' I reached out under the table with my leg and pushed the chair out for her.

She made a sour face. ''That's nae funay. Ah miss scran.''

''Well, don't order any food if you don't want to. But one of my duties as your master is to supply you with room and board.'' Or scran, which I suppose was something food-related.

''But Ah dornt eat.''

''Right. Which reminds me, because it normally doesn't cost me anything to feed you, you get two Galleons pay a week. You've been my apprentice since the Fourth, so you have two weeks back-pay plus your pay for this week.''

Shibley's expression was just blank. ''But...'' She looked down at the table.

''I know the students treat you like furniture. Hell, the teachers treat ghosts like furniture. But you're a person, just like any of the students. And you're my apprentice, which means I'm responsible for your upkeep.''

Shibley stared down at the table. Finally, without looking up, she said in a very quiet voice ''Main Ah hae porage?''

''Yes.'' Yes! ''Anything to drink?''

''Nae. Ah dornt loch tea ur coffee. An' th' scent ay fruit juice has nae body.''

''We have wine.'' I hadn't realized the server had come back. I looked up to see her watching the two of us with a wide-eyed expression of fascination. Shibley looked up at her, then to me. I shrugged.

''Aye, please.''

We ordered, and with one last look at the two of us the server left.

''So speaking of master-apprentice duties, it's time to focus on your education. Here's a question for you.''

''Aye, Master.''

''What do I have that Lucius Malfoy might want?''

Shibley looked confused. ''Is thes Muggle Studies?''

''No, it's politics. At this point, Lucius Malfoy knows he has something I want - ''

''Th' Chair ay Muggle Studies.''

''Right. But why should he bother to recommend me for the position?''

Shibley sat up straight and lifted her chin. ''Coz yoo're a master in th' field an' a doctur ay philosophy.''

''And that gets him what?''

She stopped. ''Er, Ah dornt kin. Is 'at nae whit a teacher shoods be?''

''A teacher, yes. But research chairs command resources, and in order to direct those resources you also need to be an administrator and a politician. So if I want the resources that go with a research chair, why should Lucius Malfoy expend his resources to help me get that position?''

Shibley silently tapped her fingers on the table, the sleeves of her gown hanging down through the surface. ''Ah dunnae kinn, Master.''

''That's a good answer. If you don't know, you just have to identify what you do know and build on that. What do you know about the Malfoys?''

Shibley snorted. ''They're nae mair than a jumped up pack ay cheapmongers. Aye hae bin, aye will be.''

''Right. They run a couple of the import firms that bring in goods and food from the Muggle world. And I've seen Sickle Shops in Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. As far as I can tell they own those as well.'' Sickle Shops were Wizarding Britain's answer to Pound Shops, or what I'd grown up calling Toonie Stores after the Canadian two-dollar coin.

Shibley frowned. ''Sae, ye hae wares tae seel?''

''No, but - '' I noticed the server approaching with our food. I waited until she'd set everything out. After she left I went back to the business at hand. ''If you want to make Muggle goods disappear into Wizarding shops, you need accountants, bookkeepers, and lawyers. And my father's family, the Hunters, are an extended group of upper middle class professionals in Inverness...''

''Och, bludy thievin' Highlanders.''

''What did I say about ancient ethnic prejudices?''

''Sorry, Master.''

My stomach growled loudly. ''Right. The Hunters are a bunch of civil servants, accountants, and lawyers. I don't know if the Malfoys need any more contacts outside of what they already have, but it can't hurt to start there. And while I eat, I want you to see if you can think of anything else the Malfoy family may want.''

For breakfast I'd ordered a 'traditional' full English breakfast, which so far as traditions went dated back no further than the ability of the English people to afford a plate of eggs, bacon, sausage, blood pudding, and beans, all of which represented more protein than a Pre-Modern labourer would have seen in a day. It was far more food than I really needed, and probably wasn't good for my blood pressure. Tasty though.

The couple that Shibley had defended the table from were sitting closer to the front of the café. They glared in our direction every now and again. Out of the corner of my eye I could see other people in the café giving us an occasional glance. I ignored them and enjoyed my breakfast. While I ate Shibley stared at her porridge with the intense gaze of a tentacle-monster watching a Japanese schoolgirl.

As I used a bit of toast to mop up the last of the yolk from my plate Shibley looked up from her meal. ''Ye coods write a book.''

Given her ideas on patronage and retainership I'd expected her to get there eventually. I was happy to see it was sooner rather than later.

''That's a very courtly idea. Well done. I could churn out a hagiography in a couple of months. But it's too obvious if I write one about the person who then recommends me for an academic posting.''

''Coods ye nae write abit his son?''

''Again, too obvious. Everything Lucius Malfoy has ever done is to advance the position of his family. But it's a good idea, it just needs a little tweaking.''

Shibley watched me finish off my breakfast. She frowned again, thinking. ''Whit 'en?''

''Have you heard the phrase 'sympathy for the devil'?''

''Aye, but th' devil chose his ain path. He doesnae need uir sympathy.''

The server cleared our dishes away and asked if we wanted anything else. I just asked for the bill. ''The problem with Skeeter's history is that even if you agree with her, she's too heavy-handed to really agree with. Her biography of Severus Snape is a good example. Even if you agree that cranky bastard was basically a good man stuck with a lousy lot in life, it's hard to go all the way and accept him as the saint she paints him as.''

''He waur nae dobber, he waur jist a Lancashireman.''

The bill appeared in the middle of the table. I counted out tiny silver coins. ''As may be. I'm living in Wizarding Britain and I've got a stake in its fights. I've picked the Vitalists as my side, because I really don't have a choice. Shacklebolt's Inclusionists are burnt out, Draco Malfoy's Vitalists still have some fight in them. The traditional Seclusionists want nothing to do with me, the Supremacists are fascists, and the Regionalists are a single-issue party.''

I gave Shibley a few minutes to puzzle that out. We left the Witch's Rest and stepped into Diagon Alley's Saturday morning crowd, a mix of shoppers and sight-seers. ''Are you with me so far?''

Shibley shook her head. ''Ah pure dornt hink sae.''

I found a quiet spot under the awning of a shop with a display of wireless sets and iconoscopes, the Wizarding version of radios and televisions. The iconoscope, still a relatively item to Wizarding Britain, was on sale at a mere 2499 Galleons.

''All right, let me put it this way. As an academic what can I do to advance Draco Malfoy's Vitalists, polish the reputation of Lucius Malfoy, and convince people that I deserve a place in Wizarding academia?''

I could practically see the gears grinding in Shibley's transparent head. ''Th' Vitalists want tae brin' in Squibs an' th' goblins, an' th' other beings, tae graw uir numbers...''

''Who else offered the outcast Dark creatures a place in Wizarding society?''

Shibley's jaw dropped. ''Nae, och nae. 'Sympathy fur th' - ' Och, yer awa' wae th' fairies.''

''I'm what?''

''Bapit. A bampot. Mad. An' ye ur.''

''The Death Eaters were, at their heart, a group of principled men and women mislead by a convincing maniac - ''

''Nae nae nae...''

''After all, all they really wanted to do was strengthen Wizarding society and extend it to include their magical brethren, the giants and vampires and werewolves - ''

''Yoo're a total dafty.''

''Really, Tom Riddle set their true cause back by fifty years. But now a new generation has taken up the fight, stripping it clean of the poison of the so-called Dark Lord - ''

''Och, wa dae aw th' nutters end up in Slytherin?''

''That's a totally baseless stereotype. Everyone knows it's the Badgers you have to watch out for. 'Oh, they were such quiet people, the whole neighbourhood is in shock, we had no idea they had a collection of human skins in their attic'.''

''Th' Hufflepuff Sett has nae attic. It has cold-rooms.''

''Okay, let me put it this way...'' I thought for a moment, watching the wizards and witches go by in their out of date clothes. ''I'm going to write a book supporting the Vitalist faction, one arguing that their ideas have deep roots in Wizarding society and that the time has come to put their ideals into action. People will expect that from me, because the Vitalists are the group that wants to open Wizarding society up to people like me. But along the way I'm also going to argue that certain Death Eaters also sympathised with these ideas but were mislead by Tom Riddle. After all, Riddle included a lot of cursed humans or non-human beings in his army, so to these people it must have looked like he shared their ideals.''

''Och, Ah see. Nae a body will expect a Muggle tae write a book sayin' th' Death Eaters werenae aw bad. An' Lucius Malfoy can point tae yer book an' say 'Ah waur misunderstood'.''

''Right. And then Lucius Malfoy can use his position on the Board of Governors to back me for a research position, but it won't look as though that's why I wrote the book.''

''That's... Huir uv a cunnin'.''

''Oh, it gets better. Because I'll need an assistant to help with the research on the book. And to hire a researcher I'm going to need money. And the best person to see about funding to support academic research is of course a member of the Board of Governors...''

''Sae yoo're... Yoo're gonnae tak' bunsens frae Lucius Malfoy tae write a book 'at ye hiner will convince Lucius Malfoy tae support yer bid fur a Chair...''

Shibley tilted her head and looked at me sideways. ''Hae ye spoken tae Herself abit thes?''

''Not yet. I'll bring it up on our date this afternoon. I don't think she'll object though. Once I have a Chair, I'm going to use the resources to destroy the person most responsible for blocking Galilea's plans at Hogwarts.''

''Fa is 'at?''

''Lucius Malfoy.''

''Och. Slytherins.''